


The Lady in the Lake

by 18lzytwner



Series: Bones - First Series [8]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-30
Updated: 2007-12-30
Packaged: 2019-06-10 13:13:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15292281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18lzytwner/pseuds/18lzytwner
Summary: Booth and Brennan are called out to Montana were a lady is found in Glacier National Park. With the case looming what lies in store for their relationship after Cullen speaks to Booth? BB and Hodgela, 8th in the series.  Song included is Mad World by Gary Jules





	1. Chapter 1

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Wednesday at 9:00 am**

**_Three and a half weeks after “The Man in the Chimney”_ **

          Sitting at her desk pounding away on the keyboard, Dr. Temperance Brennan was finishing her latest report.  She was upset and the poor keyboard was taking her wrath as she continued to hit the keys as hard as she could.  For the past three and a half weeks she’d been dealing with Agent Eli Bett and she hadn’t liked it.  He had just joined the FBI a few months ago and wasn’t exactly the caliber of agent she was used to working with.  Bett had thrown up at the crime scene, which needless to say didn’t make the scene anymore pleasant.  Then he’d waited around the Lab as if she and the team could get the answers faster by him standing over their shoulders.  He’d tried hitting on Angela, to which Hodgins told him if he didn’t back off he’d make sure that he’d have him busted so low he’d be sweeping floors at the Hoover building instead of being an agent.  Brennan rolled her eyes after remembering that one because there was no way Hodgins had that kind of power but apparently Bett didn’t know that.  Getting back to her report she didn’t notice the person standing at the door until she heard a knock on its frame.

          “What now?”  She asked without looking up from her work.

          “I missed you too Bones,” an all too familiar voice rang out.  Upon hearing it Brennan jumped up from her seat and wrapped her arms around her original partner. 

          “I’m so glad you’re back,” she breathed as she squeezed him.

          “Me too.  I’ve never had someone squeeze me like that before,” Booth smirked as she let go of him.

          “That agent that Cullen sent to replace you was a joke.  I hope I never have to go through that again,” the forensic anthropologist said.

          “Well we need to discuss that but before we can we have another case,” her partner flashed the file folder in his right hand.

          “A body was found floating in Lake McDonald up in Glacier National Park.  You’d better grab your suitcase and make sure you have your warm woolies,” he continued.

          “Warm woolies?”  Brennan questioned.

          “Yeah, Bones, warm clothes and winter gear, especially boots.  The normal temperature in that area of Montana in March is forty-five and it gets down to about twenty-five at night according to the National Park Service,” Booth explained.

          “Does that mean I’ll need my winter pajamas as well?”  That question made her partner smirk.

          “It couldn’t hurt, I love your fuzzy fleece,” he told her. 

          “Then lets go,” Brennan smiled.  Quickly, she grabbed her laptop and case before heading out the door.  They partners made their way to Booth’s SUV and then to Brennan’s apartment to get her suitcase packed.

**En route to Kalispell, Montana via connecting flight in St. Louis, Wednesday at 12:00 pm**  

          Brennan flipped through the case file trying to prepare herself for the body she was being sent out to look at.  Her brow furrowed and Booth leaned over to see what was going on.

          “What is it Bones?”  He asked.

          “Did you read this?”  She wondered.

          “Not completely.  Cullen called me into his office for a talk and then handed the file over.  I skimmed it while I was in the elevator,” Booth answered.

          “According to the local police what they believe is a woman’s body was found floating in Lake McDonald.  The body was duct taped to a lawn chair.  They are trying to find what kept the chair weighed down by dredging the lake,” Brennan informed him.

          “That is a weird way of getting rid of a body,” the FBI agent nodded.

          “Yes, but hopefully the cold water will help preserve the evidence.  I guess the bigger question is, who kills someone, duct tapes their body to a lawn chair and then dumps it out in the middle of a lake in a national park?”  She wondered.

          “Someone who had help.  No way only one person is involved in this,” Booth assured her.  Closing the file, the forensic anthropologist looked over at him.

          “What did we need to discuss?  What did Cullen tell you?”  She asked.

          “He said that as far as the shooting, he believes that you were justified but he also says that while Sam’s apartment was being searched they found notes he made about us,” he swallowed hard.

          “What kind of notes?”  Brennan was starting to get nervous.

          “Notes about us being romantically involved.  Cullen said that they found no proof to substantiate the claims so it’s being dismissed as a way of trying to discredit me and break up the relationship between the Jeffersonian and the FBI,” Booth explained.

          “Proof to substantiate?  What does that mean?”  His partner wondered.

          “Like pictures of us sleeping together,” he told her.  Brennan’s eyes went wide.

          “Anyway, with just a hitman’s word for it they aren’t going to follow up.  However Cullen said that if there were any truth to it, we would be in trouble.  All of our cases would be thrown into question and we’d be split up,” the G-man told her.

          “So what do we do?”  She asked.

          “I don’t know but we should focus on the case at hand and then I know we can sort this out together,” he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.  The last thing either one wanted to jeopardize their careers or the cases they’d worked but neither did they want to be apart.  Left with this to think about silence fell between the two as they’re plane got closer to their destination.


	2. Chapter 2

**Kalispell, Montana Wednesday at 3:00 pm**  

          The plane landed at Glacier Park International Airport and Booth and Brennan were met at the terminal by Sheriff Longfeather.  He shook the partners’ hands and led them to a waiting patrol car in the parking lane out in front of the massive building.

          “I’m sorry we’re meeting under such bad circumstances but the expanding population of our town has made it difficult to keep tabs on everyone with our limited resources,” Longfeather explained.

          “Limited resources?”  Booth asked as the car pulled away from the front of the airport and headed toward the police station.

          “A recent population estimate put the population close to twenty thousand but the government estimates that number will grow to almost one hundred and fifty thousand by the year two thousand ten.  We’re building new police stations and recruiting is trying to keep up but we have so many rookies it’s hard to train them all.  When I was elected to be Sheriff I never imagined something like this,” The local lawman told them.

          “So I take it someone finding a body in the lake was something you guys weren’t prepared for,” Brennan spoke up.

          “We find the occasional lost hiker’s body or the car related death in town but nothing like this.  Heck in the entire state last year there were only seventeen murders and only one of those was here in town,” Longfeather said.  Booth looked to Brennan and she nodded, having green police officers would make this case tough to solve but the Sheriff seemed to be doing the best he could with the hand he’d been dealt.

          “Well we can hold a conference for all your officers so that they are well informed for how to handle this case.  Worse comes to worse, I can call the field office in Salt Lake City and ask for assistance,” the FBI agent assured the Sheriff.

          “I would hate to pull more people into this.  I’m hoping your expertise and the expertise of my senior officers will be enough to handle the case.  I’ve kept most of the rookies out in the city.  Here is your hotel,” he stated as they pulled into the parking lot.  “I’m assuming you wanted to check in and change into appropriate outerwear.  There is two feet of snow up by Lake McDonald and sneakers would be a poor choice for the trip,” He continued.

          “Thank you very much.  How long is it until sundown?”  Brennan wondered as she exited the patrol car.

          “About two to two and a half hours but with our crews up on the mountain we have it lit up with a generator and big portable lights near Lake McDonald Lodge,” Longfeather explained as he popped the trunk to fetch their luggage.

          “The guests can’t be happy about that,” Booth smirked as he grabbed his bags and his partners, much to her objection.

          “Lucky for us the lodge doesn’t open until Memorial Day weekend.  I’ll be back in thirty minutes if that is ok,” the lawman said as he closed the trunk.

          “Sounds great, we’ll be ready,” the partners promised and headed into the lodge.  Booth headed over to the check in desk.

          “I’m Seeley Booth, I reserved two rooms here,” he said to the clerk, who smiled and said,

          “Let me check on that Mr. Booth,” her nametag had “Mitzy” on it.  A few minutes later after typing his name in the girl had a perplexed look on her face.

          “Your name isn’t in the computer.  How did you reserve the rooms?”  She asked.

          “Over the phone, I talked to someone named Susan who promised me she had reserved a room for me and one for Dr. Brennan,” Booth informed her.  The girl nodded and went back into the computer and smiled and after a few said,

          “I found one for a Seeley Brennan,” Booth shook his head while his partner stifled a laugh.  After a few more keystrokes the clerk continued to search and announced,

          “Sorry that’s all I have; one room for a Seeley Brennan.”

          “Change that to Seeley Booth and can I reserve another room for Dr. Brennan?”  Booth asked slightly perturbed.

          “Yes, I can do that,” quickly Mitzy drew up the required items and then handed over the room cards and a few pamphlets that talked about the city and the surrounding attractions.

          “Thank you.  Come on Bones, we’d better hurry to meet our friend,” he said.  Brennan nodded and thanked the clerk before heading up to her room which was next door to Booth’s.

          “Why didn’t you tell her you were an FBI agent?  I’m sure she would have been more than happy to help,” she asked before entering her room.

          “I want us to keep a low profile after what happened the last time we were this far from home,” Booth told her as he handed her luggage over.  Flashbacks to the case in Colorado made Brennan realize what a good idea it was.

          “See you in fifteen Bones,” he finished before slipping into his room.  The forensic anthropologist entered her room and immediately set her suitcases down before digging through them to find her warm woolies.  Soon the partners were back inside the patrol car heading out on the road for the thirty-one mile journey to Glacier National Park.

          Upon arrival at the Park, Sheriff Longfeather drove another ten miles before reaching Lake McDonald Lodge.  There the three exited the car and the sheriff said,

          “We have to go around the back to the temporary station we have set up.”

          “How was the body discovered?  I mean it is cold out here, seems like it would be foolish to be out here at this time of year,” Booth asked as they made their way around the massive historic lodge.

          “The weather up here is unpredictable and we encourage tourists to visit between Memorial Day weekend and the end of September because that’s usually the best times to enjoy everything the park has to offer.  However we do get people who come up here to cross-country ski and everyday the park rangers sweep the park looking for people who are up here and to check for snowmobiles, which aren’t allowed in the park.  As far as the body discovery, one park ranger was looking around the lodge and saw that the ice on top of the lake was breaking up.  Now we allow ice-fishing but to be honest fishing on Lake McDonald is kind of dumb,” Longfeather explained as their slow going continued through the knee deep snow.

          “Why is that?”  Brennan wondered.

          “Lake McDonald doesn’t have a good nutrient source and fishing here can be very poor when considered against St. Mary Lake.  Also St. Mary Lake freezes more solidly than McDonald, usually up to four foot thick ice, which makes for safer ice fishing.  At any rate the ranger thought that maybe someone had gone out there to fish anyway and the ice cracked underneath them.  He called his superiors who rushed boats out here and they scoured the lake.  They never found anyone who had been fishing and instead found our victim,” he informed them.

          “Did they retrieve the body?”  She asked as they rounded the building to see the makeshift command post.

          “Yes, they were in the process of heading out with special equipment this morning and while you were at the hotel, they radioed to say they are retrieved it,” the sheriff said.

          “Good.  Do you have facilities in town so that after my cursory exam I can send the body to the Jeffersonian?”  Brennan wondered as she made it to a shoveled out path, which made reaching the body much easier.

          “I’ve never had to ship a body so I’m not sure what to do,” Longfeather told her before moving over to his subordinates who apparently had something to tell him.

          “Well maybe you can call the rest of the Squint Squad and have them work something out,” Booth suggested.

          “Yes that will do,” the forensic anthropologist murmured as her focus was now completely on the body in front of her.  Luckily the local law enforcement hadn’t removed the victim from the lawn chair that they had been duct taped to. 

          “This body is still mostly flesh and muscle.  Not much bone work here for me, perhaps Cam can get a better look when we get the body back to D.C.  However there does appear to be evidence of the local wildlife eating the soft tissue parts,” Brennan told her partner as she examined the body.

          “Facial structure indicates a female in her late twenties early thirties of obvious Caucasian descent.  Brown hair but the eyes are missing so Angela will have to try to fill that in.  Height and weight will be determined when Zach removes all this duct tape and the lawn chair.  It would seem that whatever wasn’t well covered with duct tape the fish got at,” she continued her analysis.  

          “Her lips were taped over.  Do you think she went into the water while she was still alive?”  Booth asked dreading the answer he might get.

          “It’s quite possible but only Cam will be able to tell,” his partner sighed.

          “Good God,” the FBI agent let out a loud sigh.  It was then that Sheriff Longfeather called to them.

          “I think we found what was keeping the chair submerged!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Kalispell Police Headquarters Wednesday at 7:30 pm**

          Brennan had her laptop connected to the necessary wires at the police headquarters and called the Jeffersonian from the sheriff’s office.  Zach’s picture popped up on the screen and he welcomed the senior forensic anthropologist.

          “Hello Dr. Brennan,”

          “Hi Zach.  Is everyone there?”  She asked.

          “Yes, we’re ready,” he promised.

          “Good.  Cam, you’ll have to perform a full autopsy.  Most of the body is still intact and beyond just my bone analysis.  Zach you’ll have to help her remove the duct tape and lawn chair so she can do that.  Also run the usual X-Rays.  By my examination we have a young Caucasian female, late twenties early thirties.  Angela, you’ll need to provide a face since the fish ate most of her’s.  Hodgins run any particulates that are found in the duct tape, on the victim’s clothes, or on the weights that were found, I’m not quite sure how long she was in the water,” Brennan passed out all the assignments.  The crew gave nods and quickly left to get their stations ready leaving only Cam standing at the platform’s computer.

          “How are you going to ship the body?”  The Head of the Forensics department wondered slightly miffed that the forensic anthropologist was giving out orders.

          “I’m going to send it through the local shipping business.  The sheriff told them to put a rush on it and I gave them proper clearance to use government channels,” Brennan told her.

          “Excellent.  I’ll let you know when the body arrives and Dr. Brennan I am perfectly capable of keeping the team in order,” the ex-coroner smirked and then ended the video call. 

          “Well she told you,” Booth teased as he walked in.

          “She didn’t have to be that way,” his partner gave him a look.

          “Well you basically did her job for her.  Anyway I looked over the weights that were used to keep the lawn chair down and it seems as though we’ll be looking for a truck missing its heavy duty trailer hitch assembly and some cinderblocks,” he explained.

          “A trailer hitch?  Do you think whoever did this removed the trailer hitch when they were done?”  Brennan asked a little confused.

          “I have no idea but something that heavy would have worked if they’d used strong enough rope,” the FBI agent said.  His partner nodded and said,

          “Well we need to ship the body and the multiple items that weighed it down to the Jeffersonian,” 

          “Ok, let’s get down to the shipping business.  Sheriff Longfeather promised to alert us to any forensic developments from the tire tracks and footprints found near the lodge and the lake,” Booth told her.  With that the partners headed out to the van that held their precious cargo and headed down a few blocks to the shipping business, called Ez-Ship. 

          About thirty minutes later, the partners dropped the van off at the police station.  They checked with the sheriff who drove them to a car rental place called Homer’s Car Rental.  The name made Booth wonder how reliable the cars were but he didn’t say anything.

          “I’ll call you if our forensic guys got anything off the tire tracks and footprints but I wouldn’t expect much before tomorrow afternoon,” Sheriff Longfeather told them.

          “Thanks Sheriff,” Booth smiled and shook the man’s hand.

          “It seems as though we’ll be spending a lot of time together so please call me Bill,” the Native American smiled back.  Booth nodded and watched the sheriff pull away in his car.

          “So what do you think we should rent?”  Brennan asked after looking over the lot of obviously older cars.

          “Something that runs and doesn’t smell preferably,” her partner shook his head as they walked into the rental office. 

          “I’m Homer of Homer’s Car Rental.  We have all your car rental needs since nineteen sixty.  You guys look like a happy couple you want something sporty to spend your honeymoon here or something a little more practical for those harsh winter storms that pop up unexpectedly?”  The excitable round man behind the counter asked.

          “Actually we’re here on business and would like something a little more practical,” Booth informed him.

          “Excellent, I have a multitude of compact and sedan models out back just follow me,” Homer smiled and led them outside to the lighted parking lot as he put on his coat.  The cold winter wind had picked up and made the air feel much colder than it actually was.  Brennan shoved her hands in her coat pockets digging for the gloves she’d brought with her.  Much to her dismay the pockets were empty.  Booth saw her motions and dug into his pockets, pulling out her gloves.  He handed them to her and she gave him a confused look.  Before he could explain, Homer spoke up.

          “I have here a nineteen ninety eight Buick Park Avenue, a nineteen ninety-nine Ford Taurus, and a two thousand Dodge Stratus,” Booth and Brennan looked over the three cars, all of which seemed to have had better years.

          “What else to you have?”  The FBI agent asked.  Shifting focus, Homer pulled them over to three more cars that looked in better shape.

          “How about a two thousand one Ford Escort, a nineteen ninety seven Chevy Malibu, and a nineteen ninety eight Honda Civic?”  The rental car man wondered.

          “We’ll take the Escort,” Booth told him considering that was the best looking one so far and the fact that he could feel his lower extremities freezing in the wind. 

          “Excellent choice.  Lets duck back inside and fill out the paperwork,” Homer said.  Quickly the three went in and filled out the necessary requirements to obtain the car.  The car rental entrepreneur handed them the keys and the two turned to leave.  When they reached the door, Booth turned and asked,

          “Homer do you rent trucks with towing capabilities?”

          “Sure do I have them at my other lot across town, why?”  Homer wondered.

          “Oh just curious in case we need one,” the G-man smiled and he and his partner left to grab their rental car. 

          Back at their hotel, Booth sat next to Brennan on her bed.  They were looking over photos and trying to assess what kind of criminal they were dealing with.

          “How did you get my gloves?”  The forensic anthropologist randomly changed the subject.

          “You dropped them out at the crime scene and I scooped them up,” he said as he leaned over and kissed her temple.

          “Well thank you, my mother made them,” Brennan told him.  Soon a silence fell between the two until Booth’s stomach rumbled about twenty minutes later.

          “How about some dinner Bones?”  He asked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Kalispell Police Headquarters, Friday at 9:00 am (Mountain Standard Time)**

          Booth sat in Sheriff Longfeather’s office trying to sort through the forensic report on the tire tracks.  The frozen snow had left a decent impression the only problem was the tire was fairly common, a Dun Rover AT(P) made by Dunlop.

          “This looks like a dead end.  So far we have nothing that would lead to a suspect,” the FBI agent shook his head.

            “I take it the truck rental places aren’t missing any trucks?”  Longfeather asked.

          “That was a long shot to start with.  If someone used a boat it was probably their own which would mean they would have to have their own truck with towing capabilities.  No way this time of year, anyone would be renting out a boat,” Booth explained.

          “That narrows the suspect pool though doesn’t it?”  Bill wondered.

          “True.  Can you pull up the records of everyone who owns a boat in Kalispell?”  The G-man inquired.

          “I’ll give the County Treasurer’s office a call.  They handle all boat registrations.”  Longfeather said.

          “Thanks, how long do you think it will take to get a list of boat owners?”  Booth wondered.

          “Hopefully they can fax a list of Kalispell owners over.  While I’m at it I’ll have the Department of Justice give me a list of truck owners in Kalispell.  Maybe through cross referencing we can narrow the list further,” the local lawman told him.

          “Perfect, I’m going to catch up with Bones and see if the Jeffersonian got anything,” Booth said.  The sheriff gave a nod and picked up the phone.  The FBI agent left the office and headed over to the workspace that the forensic anthropologist had been given.

          “Any news Bones?”  He asked.

          “They just got the body two hours ago.  Zach and Hodgins are trying to find a way to remove the duct tape with ruining it or removing the victim’s flesh with it,” she replied.

          “Oh that’s disgusting,” Booth made a face.

          “How are things on your end?”  Brennan wondered.

          “Well the sheriff is running down boating and truck information as we speak.  He hopes to have a list of boat owners that we can cross reference with truck owners very soon,” her partner informed her.

          “Since our killers used their towing assembly, is it reasonable to assume they wouldn’t be looking for a new one?”  She asked.

          “That’s a tough one Bones.  If they have every intention of using the boat again, they would need one but considering they somehow managed to tow the thing back home, I’m guessing they just bought another one before their late night water activities.  On the other hand, since we know there had to be two of them, it’s possible that they used the one from one of their trucks and then used the second guys’ truck to haul the boat,” Booth said.

          “True and if their friends and they share the boat then they wouldn’t need to replace the towing assembly right away because at least one of them still has one,” Brennan filled in.

          “Exactly,” he confirmed.

          “That’s not good is it?”  She inquired.

          “No it isn’t because then we’ll be looking for a guy without a boat too,” Booth ran his hand through his hair.  At that moment, the sheriff walked into the room.

          “Both departments are faxing over the lists.  They promised to have them here by lunch time.” he informed the partners before continuing by asking,

          “Any news from the Jeffersonian?”

          “The team is trying to remove the duct tape without destroying any of the evidence, that might be difficult but as soon as I hear something from them, I’ll let you know,” Brennan promised.

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Friday at 12:00 pm (Eastern Standard Time)**

          Jack and Zach stood pondering the options available to them.  Soaking the body in a liquid that would remove the tape was an option but they would then run the risk of ruining any evidence left came into play.  However, using cloths to soak certain sections until they came loose would take twice as long and still possibly ruin evidence.

          “So what do we do genius?”  The entomologist asked Zach. 

          “Are you referring to my intelligence as a derogatory remark?”  The junior forensic anthropologist wondered.

          “Ladies can we focus?”  Cam interrupted them before Hodgins could make a cutting remark.

          “The longer this takes the worse the chance we loose key evidence,” she reminded them.

          “Anything we use could cause evidence to be contaminated,” Hodgins said.  No one could refute that fact.

          “What if you used orange oil?  That stuff gets anything off.”  Angela suggested.

          “We thought about that but then we run the risk of it eating through the already soggy skin tissue,” The Head of Forensics informed her.

          “You know what we need?  Baby oil, lots and lots of baby oil,” Jack told them.

          “That would work,” Cam nodded.

          “King of the Lab!”  Hodgins declared.  Zach shook his head as the entomologist ran off to fetch massive quantities of the slippery liquid.  Dr. Saroyan smirked and went back to her office to call Dr. Brennan and alert her to the steps they were taking.


	5. Chapter 5

**Kalispell Police Headquarters, Saturday at 11:00 am (Mountain Standard Time)**

          Dr. Brennan’s cell phone rang interrupting the conversation she was having with Booth.  She grabbed the item up off the desk she’d been given and answered it.

          “Brennan,”

          “Dr. Brennan its Cam.  I completed the autopsy this morning after the body dried out a little from the baby oil,”

          “What did you find?”  The forensic anthropologist asked wondering why the woman on the other end just didn’t tell her the results.  There was a pause before Cam continued.

          “The cause of death was drowning and she was six weeks pregnant,” the Head of Forensics told her.  Brennan shook her head, which caused Booth to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

          “Can you estimate how long she was in the water and run a DNA test?”  She inquired.

          “DNA has been sent out as well as a tox screen and I’d say she’d only been in the water about a week.  Since the water was cold, it made it harder for the fish to get at her until she’d been there a few days,” Cam explained.

          “What about dental records and does Angela have a face yet?”  Brennan wanted to know.

          “Her teeth and what’s left of her fingerprints aren’t in the system.  Angela will hopefully have one soon, I’ll fax it over there when she’s done,” Dr. Saroyan promised.

          “Thanks, I’ll tell Booth,” with that the conversation ended and the forensic anthropologist put her phone down.

          “What is it?”  Her partner asked.  Brennan explained the situation and Booth’s expression turned sour.  Whoever killed this woman and her unborn child would certainly watch their step around him.

“How is the list of missing people coming?”  Brennan inquired once she’d finished.

          “Well without the sketch, I’m afraid we’ve hit another dead end.  No one in the past week has been reported missing.  The closest case is a woman who has been missing for two weeks.  But there are some things that bother me,” the FBI agent said.

          “What?”  His partner gave him an inquisitive look.

          “Well if the body was in the lake for almost a week how come the Park Rangers didn’t notice the ice breakage before Tuesday?  Also who doesn’t report a pregnant woman missing?”  He wondered. 

          “I don’t know maybe Bill can help fill in the blankets,” Brennan suggested.

          “It’s blanks Bones and yes maybe he can,” Booth corrected her and the two headed to the Sheriff’s office.  He let them in and made sure to close the door behind them.

          “Any more news from the Jeffersonian?”  The Native American lawman asked.

          “Yes, I’m afraid the victim that drowned and she was six weeks pregnant,” Brennan spoke up.  Longfeather shook his head and Booth picked up where his partner left off.

          “The Jeffersonian determined that she wasn’t in the water for more than a week.  Sheriff why did it take the Rangers so long to find the ice had broken?”

          “The weatherman forecasted that we’d get a big storm last week Wednesday.  For once they were right and we got three feet of snow in town and five feet up by the mountains.  A lot of the trails were impassable until it melted over the course of the week,” Bill explained.

          “So our crooks were betting on the storm predictions keeping people out of the park.  They went late when the Park Rangers would have been hunkered down at their posts and drove out to the Lodge,” Booth ran a hand through his hair. 

          “Sounds like it.  The nasty winds that we had would have kept the ice from reforming.  So what’s the next step?”  The Sheriff wondered.

          “Well no one has reported our victim missing and she isn’t in the system, so when we get the sketch from the Jeffersonian, we’ll have to alert the public for help,” the FBI agent suggested.

          “You’re hoping that someone recognizes her?”  Bill asked.

          “That or someone notices that their neighbor is missing a trailer hitch, cinderblocks, or a lawn chair.  Or maybe the guy at the local hardware store remembers someone who bought tons of duct tape,” Booth shrugged.

          “Add those things to the list of people with boats and trucks that have those Dunlop tires and we might have our guys,” Longfeather nodded.

          “Exactly, of course if the Jeffersonian gets any prints off the items, then that will certainly bolster our case as well,” the G-man nodded as well.

          “Excellent when do you expect a picture?”  The Native American lawman asked.

          “This afternoon hopefully.  I’m having the Jeffersonian fax it over,” Brennan spoke up. 

          “Good, I’ll keep my eyes open, thank you,” Longfeather said.

          “You’re welcome.  Bones and I are going get some lunch and then try to run down some of the boaters that we haven’t confirmed what kind of truck tires they have.  Give us a call when the picture comes in,” Booth told him.

          “Will do,” the Sheriff promised.  With that the partners left the office and headed for a local diner. 

          Down at the diner, the two sat waiting for their food and Brennan noticed how quiet Booth had become.  She wasn’t sure what to say to him but she knew that the news she’d delivered earlier hadn’t gone over well.

          “So why do you think no one has reported our victim missing?”  She asked.  It wasn’t the best conversation starter but it was better than the insufferable silence.

          “I don’t know.  Maybe she doesn’t have extended family, maybe she does but they live out of state,” he said.

          “Well someone other than her family had to know her, Cam proved that,” Brennan pointed out.

          “Yes and that’s probably the person we’re looking for.  She might have been having an affair and the man found out she was pregnant and killed her or she saw something she wasn’t supposed to and the pregnancy was something they didn’t know about,” he floated a couple more probable situations by his partner.  Their food arrived and the waitress smiled as she delivered it.

          “Can I get you two anything else?”  She asked.

          “Ketchup please,” Booth said with one of his “charm” smiles.

          “Right away,” the waitress continued to flirt and then walked away to retrieve a bottle of the condiment.

          “What was that?”  Brennan gave him a dirty look.

          “What?”  He asked.

          “I may not be astute with human interaction but you were flirting with her,” the forensic anthropologist said. 

          “Are you suggesting that there is another woman out there for me other than you?”  Booth wondered.

          “You’re just saying that to get on my good side,” she said feeling a little hurt.

          “No, I’m saying that because there isn’t any other woman out there.  You’re the one that I want to spend every waking moment with,” he told her.  This made her blush slightly and smile. 

          “You’re just saying that so you can ‘get some’ tonight,” she teased.

          “Hey I didn’t know we had adjoining hotel rooms,” he smirked.

          “Here’s the ketchup, enjoy,” the waitress came back over and winked at Booth as she walked away.  Her ample bottom swaying back and forth would have made most men drool but the FBI agent’s chocolate brown eyes were glued to Temperance’s baby blues. 

          “Well we’d better eat before it gets cold,” she said breaking the silence.

          “And before I get hot,” he said in a low tone.  That comment got him a kick in the shin under the table.

          “Ow,” he said.

          “Save it for later,” she gave him a sexy smile.  Booth quickly bit down on the nearest French fry to avoid the comment that was in his mind from coming out.

          After lunch, the two got in the car and began their search to narrow the list of suspects.  Soon they had covered at least the first five on the list but that still left almost fifty people to check out. 

          “This is going to take forever,” Brennan said.

          “Until the rest of the squints come up with something good, we don’t have anything else to do.  It seems our crooks were pretty smart and knew how to cover their tracks.  It also makes them very dangerous,” he told her.

          “How so?”  She wondered.

          “Well they can continue to kill people and get away with it due to a lack of evidence,” Booth explained.

          “So dangerous to the local populous and more work for us,” the forensic anthropologist nodded.

          “Here’s the next place.  Why don’t we go visit Mr. Tunney and see what kind of tires he has on his truck?”  Booth said as he parked the car on the side of the road and they climbed out of the rental car.

          “This neighborhood is incredibly quiet,” Brennan remarked as she shivered against the wind. 

          “It would appear to be that way, odd for a weekend,” Booth nodded.  Using the skills he learned in the Army Rangers, he scanned the neighborhood.  Every house had driveways that had obviously not been shoveled and some of the homes looked to be in disrepair. 

          “Come on Bones, let’s head up the driveway,” he said.  She nodded and the two moved up the only clean driveway in the area.  They rang the doorbell but no one answered.  After waiting a few more minutes they rang it again.

          “Nothing doing, it seems Bones.  Let’s take a walk around and see if he left the truck or boat here,” they walked down the steps and came back into the driveway.

          “How are we going to do that without leaving footprints?”  Brennan asked.

          “Simple, no one is around, so…” Booth grabbed the garage door and heaved it open.  Inside they didn’t find a truck or a boat but the search wasn’t entirely fruitless.

          “Look at all these half used rolls of duct tape.  Either this guy is very forgetful or…” he started.

          “Or he was trying to prevent Hodgins from using end match analysis on the duct tape found on the victim,” she said.

          “Come on let’s get out of here,” her partner said as he shut the door.  Quickly they walked back down the driveway and hopped into the Escort.  Booth circled the name on the list and then went to start the car.  The engine made a turnover attempt but the engine didn’t kick in so the FBI agent tried it again and again nothing.

          “Crap,” he muttered and pulled the lever to pop open the car’s hood. 

          “I’ll be right back Bones.  Stay in the car and try to keep warm,” Booth said.

          “I can help,” she offered.

          “I might need it but first let me check it out,” he gave her a smile and then exited the car.  Next, the FBI agent lifted the hood and latched it so it would stay up.  Then he looked at the engine block.  There was obvious corrosion on the battery terminals and that could be part of the problem.  He moved to the passenger side and opened the door.

          “Climb over to the driver’s seat and when I wave my hand turn the key over,” Booth said.

          “Ok,” Brennan nodded and slid over the seat to reach the steering wheel and key.  Once she was situated, her partner waved his hand and she attempted to get the car to start.  However once again nothing happened.  She saw Booth slam the hood back down and she scooted back over to the passenger seat.  He climbed back into the car and picked up his cell phone. 

          “Who are you calling?”  The forensic anthropologist asked.

          “The Sheriff.  The starter isn’t connected to anything.  That last bump must have dislodged it,” he told her.  After a short conversation, Booth hung up and turned to his partner.

          “They’re calling a tow truck and sending out a patrol car to get us,” he told her.

          “How long will that take?”  Brennan asked.

          “At least thirty minutes.  They have to find a patrol man in the area and send him over here and then someone has to wait for the tow truck,” the G-man explained.  She nodded and the two sat there for a few minutes before Booth spoke again.

          “So I hear the best way to stay warm in cold weather is to have two naked bodies next to each other…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Kalispell Police Headquarters, Saturday at 2:45 pm**  

          For his comment, Booth got a smack and Brennan told him if he wasn’t careful it would be a very long cold month.  This made him keep quiet and it wasn’t too long before a patrol car picked them up.  The tow truck took longer to get there but they were back at the police station in good time.  Sheriff Longfeather pulled them into his office and closed the door.

          “The picture from the Jeffersonian came over and I think I recognize who it is,” he told them as he handed over the fax he’d gotten.  Brennan pulled out her phone and found that Angela had sent the picture to her.

          “Does brown hair and blue eyes make it easier to identify her?”  The forensic anthropologist asked.

          “Yes it’s an aide from the Mayor’s office downtown by the name of Sara Dietrich,” Bill shook his head and took the fax back from Booth.

          “What exactly does she do down there?”  The FBI agent wondered.

          “Well she helped with his campaign and ran his PR department while he’s in office,” Longfeather explained.

          “No one noticed her missing for over a week?”  Brennan gave a confused look.

          “Well I think we’d better give his office a visit before we hold a press conference.  The last thing I need is Mayor Woodridge breathing down my neck because I went public first,” the Sheriff said.

          “Sounds like a good idea.  We’ll need to ask people in his office questions as well.  Before we head over there we have to discuss a few things.  First off, we went to Sam Tunney’s house and found no one home.  We lifted the garage door and found no truck or boat but rolls and rolls of duct tape that had obviously been used.  Some were thicker than others but the point is that there is no need for one man to have so many half-used rolls of the stuff.  Also the neighborhood was completely empty, driveways weren’t shoveled, the homes seemed to be in a state of disrepair, what’s going on over there?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “That neighborhood is slotted for demolition to make way for a casino that the Mayor’s office promises will bring in money.  Most of the people were bought out and are now living in other parts of town but not Sam.  He refuses to give up his home.  Says his family has lived there for generations and doesn’t want to give the place up.  For a while there was a push to get the neighborhood given historical standing so it would be safe from building the casino there but it didn’t go through.  Ever since then the Mayor’s office has been pushing for the casino to be built and the people who want to build it will get the green light if Sam sells his house,” Longfeather explained.

          “So if the PR woman for the Mayor is killed and it’s found out in the course of the investigation we find out there was an affair was going on, focus would shift from the casino to the scandal,” the FBI agent nodded.

          “Makes sense but how would Sam Tunney know that there was an affair?”  Brennan asked.

          “He wouldn’t but he could hope for that.  Either way an investigation surrounding the Mayor’s office would be enough for him to get a reprieve,” Bill said.

          “We need to get a sample of Mayor Woodridge’s DNA and see if it matches the baby’s.  We’ll also need a sample of Sara’s DNA to confirm that is who the victim is,” the forensic anthropologist told them.

          “All right well I’ll post a deputy near Sam’s home and have him call in when he gets there.  Then we can go over and ask him about his boat and truck.  Hopefully we’ll get enough when we’re over there to get a search warrant.  In the mean time let’s head over to the Mayor’s office,” the Native American lawman said.

**Mayor Woodridge’s Office, Saturday at 4:00 pm**

          “Sheriff Longfeather how nice to see you.  What brings you and your friends over here on a Saturday?”  The Mayor wondered as he stood up from his chair.

          “This is FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth and his partner Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute.  They’re here because of the body found in Lake McDonald,” the Sheriff explained as he shook hands with the city’s leader.

          “Oh and you think I have something to add to the investigation?”  Woodridge asked as he shook hands with the partners.

          “We believe the woman found was your aide, Sara Dietrich,” Booth delivered the bad news and the Mayor looked at him.

          “That can’t be.  She took two weeks off to visit her family in Three Forks over in Gallatin County,” he told them as he sat back down at his desk. 

          “I have this sketch, you should take a look at,” Brennan stepped forward and handed him the fax the police station had received from Angela.  Judging from the look on his face, the picture was the woman they had been discussing.

          “How did this happen?”  Woodridge wanted to know.

          “We’re trying to figure that out.  Did she have a boyfriend?”  Sheriff Longfeather asked.

          “Not that I know of but she wouldn’t share something like that with me.  You’ll have to ask my secretary,” the elected official said.

          “Why do you think her family didn’t call here when she didn’t make it there?”  Booth inquired.

          “Last I heard Three Forks was buried by that storm we had.  I figured she made it in.  Maybe her family thought that she was just delayed by the weather,” Woodridge shrugged.

          “Can we have her address?”  The FBI agent wondered hoping that once they were inside her place they could find her family’s phone number.  The Mayor pulled out his little address book and wrote it down for them.

“Thank you your Honor, we’ll be in touch to talk to your staff,” Longfeather told him.  All they got was a nod as they let themselves out.  Once they were back in the car, Booth let out a sigh.

          “Something seem odd to you about that?”  He asked.

          “He behaved like he’d lost someone he loved plus his story about her family seemed a little strange,” Brennan said.

          “I’ll have my forensic team sweep her place and have them get DNA and look for her family’s info.  Monday, we’ll be able to talk to the staff at the Mayor’s office,” Bill nodded as he fired the cruiser up and headed for Headquarters.

          Later, Brennan sat at her space looking over the sketch sent by Angela and the X-rays that Zach had taken.  It seemed odd that there were no signs of physical trauma.  No way would someone willing allow themselves to be taped down and flung into the cold water of Lake McDonald.  Just then her phone rang and she picked it up.

          “Brennan,”

          “Dr. Brennan, its Cam.  Our victim’s tox screen came back and there were high levels of nitrobenzodiazepines in her system specifically Flunitrazepam, also known as…”

          “Rohypnol,” Brennan finished.

          “Exactly.  She wasn’t raped but someone must have used large amounts of the stuff because recently it was discovered that after five days, it’s undetectable unless you look at the hair.  I didn’t look at the hair but it still showed up,” Dr. Saroyan said.

          “Could that be because her body was frozen?  As soon as her heart stopped, the drug would have stopped being pumped through her system,” the forensic anthropologist wondered.

          “It’s possible we’re still learning about the drug so maybe.  The fact of the matter is despite it’s application for insomnia, Rohypnol is still not recognized by the FDA so I’m guessing our bad guy has some connections with someone getting it from Mexico.  Anyway, is there anything on your end we should know about?”  Cam wondered.

          “We have a possible ID, a woman by the name of Sara Dietrich.  The local police are in the process of searching her apartment and retrieving DNA samples.  We also have a possible suspect for her murder and another for the cause of her pregnancy, when I get a sample I send it to you to match with the baby,” Brennan told her as Booth walked over with her coat in hand.

          “Just let me know, talk to you later,” Cam said and the call ended.

          “Filling Cam in?”  Her partner asked.

          “Yes, what do you have?”  Brennan inquired.

          “Sam Tunney returned home about two minutes ago.  We’re heading over there,” he said as he handed her coat over.

          “Let’s go,” she smiled.

**Sam Tunney’s Residence, Saturday at 6:15 pm**

                Sheriff Longfeather pulled up to the house and got out of the car.  The deputy who’d been keeping an eye on the place told him that Tunney had pulled his Dodge Ram into the garage.  Bill thanked him and told him to wait until they were done before leaving.  The deputy gave a nod and got back into his car to keep warm. 

The sun had set and the wind had picked up again as Brennan shook her shoulders to try to warm up as they headed up the drive.  Booth wanted to wrap his arm around her shoulders but the walk wasn’t that far and hopefully they could talk to the guy inside his house.  Sheriff Longfeather rang the doorbell and saw someone come to the door.

“Evening Sam.  Can we talk for a minute?”  Bill asked when the door opened.

“So now they send the law after me to kick me out?”  Tunney looked at the three completely wide-eyed.

“No, we want to talk about something else,” the Sheriff tried to calm the man down.  However it wasn’t working as the upset homeowner grabbed the shotgun he kept near the door and pointed it at Brennan.

“Get off my property!”  Tunney shouted.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sam Tunney’s Residence, Saturday at 6:30 pm**

          The sirens in the distance gave Booth no comfort as he knew that they would not be there in time to save the woman he loved.  If that shotgun was loaded with buckshot it would cut Brennan’s soft flesh like a hot knife through butter, and her vital organs would follow suit.

          “Don’t do anything stupid Sam.  This will not help you,” Sheriff Longfeather tried to talk the deranged man down.

          “I said GET OFF MY PROPERTY!!!”  Tunney bellowed.  It was then that the group got a shock.

          “Dad what’s going on?”  A boy who could not have been much older than Parker came up behind his father.  He looked pale and his brown hair was all tousled.  Brennan noted that his eyes seemed sunken in and for someone his height, he certainly wasn’t heavy enough to hold it properly.

          “Go back to bed Bobby.  You need your sleep,” Tunney told the boy.  This distraction was enough to have Booth grab his Glock 22 out of his shoulder holster and point it at the shotgun wielding man.

          “Drop your weapon!”  The FBI agent shouted.  Tunney turned to face the three standing on his porch and caught a face full of nine millimeter handgun.  Within seconds three more police cars arrived at the scene along with an ambulance.

          “Drop it.  Don’t make me shoot you in front of your son,” Booth kept his tone low.  For a moment it looked as though Tunney wasn’t going to listen but the sound of the police officers in his driveway cocking their weapons made him think twice.  Slowly he put the loaded shotgun down and put his hands in the air.  Sheriff Longfeather went up to the man and slowly pulled his hands down.

          “We’ll put the cuffs on in the car but you are under arrest for brandishing a loaded firearm in public and attempted assault,” the local lawman whispered to him and read him his rights.

          “Where are you taking my dad?”  Bobby wanted to know.

          “Down to the precinct, we have to ask him some questions,” Booth tried to sugar coat the truth.  Brennan gave him a look but supposed it was best not to upset the sick child.  She watched Booth enter the home and crouch down to the boy’s eye level.

          “I think your dad wouldn’t want you out of bed so we’re going to get you a nice bed with a doctor to take a look at you.  Where is your mom so we can call her?”  He tried to comfort Bobby as he wrapped an arm, carefully around the child’s shoulders.

          “My mom died two years ago,” the little boy said, looking down at the floor.

          “I’m sorry.  Is there someone else we could call?”  The FBI agent wondered as he saw his partner waving the EMT’s over.

          “My dad’s friend Mr. Croft but I don’t know his number,” Bobby told him as Booth scooped him up.

          “Ok well we’ll manage, now you go with these nice men and they’ll give you a ride in the ambulance with the sirens and everything,” the G-man gave the boy one of his charm smiles and Bobby smiled back.  Brennan caught herself smiling as well the exchange between the FBI agent and EMT’s took place.  She still marveled at how her partner could make someone feel better and yet when he was interrogating then rip them to pieces.  Once the sick little boy was inside the ambulance, Booth turned to her and said,

          “This Mr. Croft may be Tunney’s partner.  I’ll have the deputies look him up, why don’t we head for the garage?”

          “Sounds good.  Let’s hope he didn’t dispose of the duct tape rolls,” she agreed.  The two headed over to the garage and opened the door.  Since Tunney had been arrested and was a person of interest for different charges they could legally search his property.  Finding a light switch on the wall, the partners flicked on the lights.  Luckily the duct tape rolls remained where they spotted them earlier and quickly Brennan popped on her latex gloves.  Booth moved over to the truck that was parked on one side of the building.

          “Hey Bones, look at this,” he called to the forensic anthropologist.  She looked over and spotted what he was pointing at with his foot.

          “Dun Rover AT(P)’s from your body language,” Brennan said.

          “The very same, however his truck has its towing kit,” Booth informed her.

          “Ok so where’s his boat?”  His partner wondered.

          “Good question,” he answered.

          “These rolls need to be bagged and sent to the Jeffersonian.  We also need a soil sample scraped from the tires to see if we can match it to the dirt from the tread mark casings we took at Lake McDonald Lodge,” she told him.

          “Right,” the G-man gave a nod and that’s when Sheriff Longfeather entered the garage.

          “My men have him in custody and are taking him down to the station.  Should I call the forensic team in here?”  He asked.

          “Yes, we have a few things for them to collect and a phone call for your deputies,” Booth then went on to explain.

          “Should we have this Mr. Croft go to Bobby?  If he is Sam’s partner then he might try to brainwash the poor boy,” the Native American lawman wondered.

          “It is my professional opinion that Bobby Tunney needs to be seen by a doctor and tended to under a careful medical eye.  There is obviously something wrong with him and he was not receiving proper care,” Brennan put in her opinion.

“Have this Mr. Croft meet Bobby down at the hospital and explain to him that Sam Tunney could be facing endangering the welfare of a child charges,” her partner said.

“Very good, I’ll have my men get on it,” Longfeather nodded.

**Kalispell Police Headquarters, Saturday at 8:30 pm**

          “Sam things aren’t looking very good for you.  You tried to shoot my partner and I don’t appreciate men who try stunts like that,” Booth stood above Tunney, who was handcuffed to the table.

          “Where is my son?”  The man asked.

          “He’s in the hospital getting the care he needs.  You’ll be facing more charges depending on what the doctors find,” the FBI agent told him and then bent down closer so that only Sam could hear him.

          “People like you make me sick,”

          “I did what I thought was best for Bobby.  We don’t have medical insurance and I can’t afford to pay doctor bills,” Tunney defended himself as Booth moved across the room.

          “What were you going to do?  Wait until he died?”  Brennan watched from behind the glass as her partner’s tone grew. 

          “The last time we went to the doctors they let my wife die, I wasn’t about to let them kill Bobby,” Sam told him.  Booth just gave him an incredulous look.

          “Susan had Lupus.  Her immune system was damaged and then one day she found a lump on her chest and the doctors said she had breast cancer.  She died three months later.  Bobby has Lupus too,” Sam started to break down.  The FBI agent shook his head and changed the subject.

          “Care to explain the twelve different half used rolls of duct tape in your garage?”

          “What about them?”  Tunney asked as he wiped the tears from his face.

          “Well it seems as though that’s a lot of duct tape for someone to have and it seems the Kalispell police found a body that was covered in duct tape floating in Lake McDonald.  Your tire treads also match those at the scene.  So that begs the question, where is your boat?”  Booth inquired. 

          “I want a lawyer,” Sam said.

          “All right well we’ll have him meet you down at booking because as for now you’re still under arrest,” the FBI agent motioned for the deputies to take the man away and then walked out of the room to meet Bones.

          “Lupus is a chronic autoimmune disease and it has no cure.  It’s usually found in women but can be passed on genetically.  It could explain why Bobby has it,” Brennan told him.

          “English please?”  Booth asked.

          “Lupus affects multiple organ systems and lowers the body’s defense system.  Often victims complain of muscle pain and bone pain which indicate possible more serious problems underneath.  Susan Tunney contracting breast cancer while having a weak immune system would have been a death sentence.  She could not have survived the radiation treatments and the best thing would have to try to make her comfortable.  With recent medical advances, fatalities are increasingly rare, so Bobby could lead a relatively normal life,” she spelled it out for him.

          “But Tunney was afraid to let Bobby outside because they couldn’t afford the medical insurance.  That doesn’t explain why he would join this mysterious Mr. Croft and kill Sara Dietrich.  Getting arrested would mean leaving Bobby alone,” her partner tried to sort things out.

          “But Bill said that Dietrich was pushing that casino campaign,” Brennan was a little confused.

          “So maybe this Croft promised money or care for Bobby if Tunney helped him get rid of our victim.  Sam saw an opportunity to help his son and possible keep his house and he jumped at it,” Booth hypothesized.  His partner stifled a yawn and nodded.

          “Come on Bones, let’s get some sleep and we can sort things out tomorrow,” the G-man said.  He put a hand on the small of her back and led her from the interrogation room.

**Brennan’s Hotel Room, Saturday at 10:30 pm**

          The forensic anthropologist stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her teeth.  It had been a long day and normally ten-thirty would be early for her to hit the sack but she was just very tired.  A knock on her door caused Brennan to swish and spit before calling out,

          “Coming.”  Wiping her mouth and setting her toothbrush down she headed over to the door of her room.  However when she opened it she saw no one there.  Shaking her head, Brennan moved back to the bathroom to brush her hair out.

          “Bones open up,” her partner’s voice came through the wall.

          “Where are you Booth?”  She asked confused as to what her partner meant since she’d just tried the door.

          “The door that adjoins our rooms,” he told her.  Seeing what he meant, Brennan opened the side entrance to her room.

          “Well at least I don’t have to sneak around out in the hallway,” Booth gave her a smile.  She gave a half-hearted smile back and wrapped her arms around him as he pulled her into his. 

          “I wanted to ask you earlier but I didn’t get the chance.  Are you ok?”  He asked concern evident in his voice from the incident that had occurred earlier.  Brennan pulled away and started to answer him.

          “You’d think I’d be used to having someone threaten my life by now and yet I was still scared.  I mean I’ve been kidnapped and told I was going to be eaten alive by dogs, accused of murder, buried in a car underground, had body parts mailed to me, booby-trapped corpses, been shot, and had a gun stuck in my face more times than I can count, and somehow I was still afraid.  Afraid that I wouldn’t feel your arms around me or hear you say how much you love me.  Afraid that I would never see my father, Russ, Angela, Jack, Zack, or Cam ever again.  I was afraid I’d end up like so many of the victims that I’ve processed in my career.  I just…” at this point Booth, put a finger over her mouth to silence her.

          “Temperance you have every right to be scared.  Trust me no matter how many times your life is threatened you don’t get used it,” he told her.

          “I see death day in and day out.  I’ve become used to the smell, feel, and taste of it, so much so that I don’t find it upsetting, so why on this different level, am I so illogical?”  The forensic anthropologist wondered.  Booth let out a sigh and pulled her over to the bed where he sat down and had her sit on his lap. 

          “You’re not being illogical.  Do you know how many times, despite all my training, I felt I could die when I was a Ranger?  Every mission, I was scared.  I didn’t let it show but part of me wanted to scream and run away.  However the other part of me reminded me I had a job to do and I needed to do it.  It is the same for you.  Never once have you backed down from a suspect, never once have you balked in the face of danger.  My God you saved Hodgins’ life by cutting into his leg and then blew the two of you out of that car and you shot Sam when I was lying on the floor bleeding.  You have courage in spades so don’t go thinking that being scared every once in a while is a bad thing,” the FBI agent said.  Brennan had a thoughtful look on her face as he leaned in and kissed her forehead.  Then Booth lay back on the bed and she snuggled herself next to him.  The only thing that mattered tonight was that they could hold each other.


	8. Chapter 8

**Mayor Woodridge’s Office, Monday at 9:00 am**

                Sunday had proven to be a completely wasted day.  Once Sam Tunney got his lawyer he refused to talk.  Bobby Tunney was still having tests done on him and the results wouldn’t be in until at least Wednesday.  However one interesting thing that had occurred was the fact that they found Mr. Andrew Croft.  It turns out that there were twenty Crofts in Kalispell but the deputies ran them all down until one claimed to know Bobby and Sam Tunney and promised to be at the hospital as soon as he could.  A deputy had been placed outside Booby’s door and he reported that a man in a wheelchair arrived to see the boy around five-thirty that evening.  How could a man in a wheelchair help Sam Tunney dispose of a body?

          Now Booth and Brennan stood in Mayor Woodridge’s office, waiting to speak to staff members there.  The Mayor sat at his desk thumbing through some paperwork when the FBI agent interrupted him.

          “Excuse me sir, but have you broken the news to your staff yet?”  He asked.

          “Not yet Agent Booth.  I was going to call everyone into my office and tell them.  Have you gotten any further along in the case?”  Woodridge wondered.

          “We have a possible suspect in custody,” was all Booth told him.  The fact of the matter was they sent some of Sara Dietrich’s DNA from her apartment to the Jeffersonian and were waiting on a confirmation before calling her family in Three Forks.  However the Mayor seemed satisfied with this and then punched the button on his inter-office communication device.

          “Martha, will you get all the staff together and bring everyone into my office?”  He asked.

          “Yes sir,” a pleasant voice came over the speaker.  About twenty minutes later, people began fling into the office.  Booth looked at all them keeping a close eye trying to see how many versions of the same story they were going to get.  He made a face when he finished counting.  Twenty-five people had filled the office to slightly over capacity.

          “Everyone can I have your attention?”  Woodridge called over the murmur of the office personnel.  Silence followed as he introduced the partners.

          “This is FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth and his partner Dr. temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute.  They flew here from Washington D.C. to investigate the body they found in Lake McDonald,” 

          “So what can we do to help?”  One of the staffers called out.

          “We believe that the woman found was Sara Dietrich,” Booth told the group.  A gasp went up and some of the women started to cry.

          “We need your help to catch her killers so please any information you can give us will be much appreciated,” The G-Man said. 

          Later that afternoon, they had interviewed everyone and were trying to sort the stories out in their new rental car.  Most of it was just what a good person she was and how much everybody loved her.  However there were a couple that were interesting.

          “Martha, the Mayor’s secretary, said lately that Sara was extra happy and discussed how much she loved her new boyfriend.  Later she said Sara let it slip that he was married and it was someone in the office,” Booth told his partner as he fired the car up.

          “Well at least that narrows the suspect pool.  There are six men including the Mayor in the office; one is gay, two are single, and three are married,” Brennan said as she buckled her seat belt.

          “How do you know that?”  He looked at her with a confused look on his face then he turned his attention back to the road.

          “You and I have been partners for over three years, I’ve learned things by watching you.  I noticed that three of the men wore wedding rings, one of the men I interviewed told me that he and his partner always had a great time with Sara when they went shopping, and the other two said that she was a great woman to work with but they only had a good working relationship,” she explained.

          “Good work Bones!”  Booth smiled, proud that he had rubbed off on his partner.

          “Thank you.  Now did you get anything else from your interviews?”  She smiled back.

          “Elly, Sara’s assistant, said that she’d noticed that in the morning her coworker was in and out of the bathroom, throwing up from what it sounded like.  Then the last day before she left to go visit her family, she was in the Mayor’s office for two hours,” the FBI agent gave her a look.

          “Maybe some goodbye sex?”  Brennan shrugged.

          “Possibly,” Booth nodded as he turned the car down the road toward the police station.  Just then his partner’s cell phone rang.

          “Brennan,” she answered.

          “Hi hun,” the familiar voice of her best friend came over the line.

          “Hi Ange, do you guys have something?”  The forensic anthropologist inquired.

          “We received your DNA samples and we’re running them through the tests hopefully we’ll have results by tomorrow.  Jack found a fingerprint on the towing apparatus but so far we haven’t had any luck running it through the system,” Angela explained.

          “All right well the roles of duct tape and tire scrapings will be coming to you later today or tomorrow.  There are twelve half used rolls of duct tape the jack has to use end match analysis on, so see if you and Zach can help him speed up the process,” Brennan instructed.

          “Sure sweetie.  So have you and Booth enjoyed any clean mountain air?”  The forensic artist asked.

          “We’re not here to sight see Ange, we have a case to work on,” her friend reminded her.

          “Yes well make sure you take full advantage of the beautiful surroundings and the hotel’s hot tub,” if it was possible Brennan could swear she saw the smirk on Angela’s face.

          “I’ll talk to you later,” the world-renowned author said and then she hung up.

          “So what did Angela have to say?”  Booth wanted to know as they pulled into the police station.

          Sheriff Longfeather approached the partners as they entered the station.  He could see that Dr. Brennan was explaining something to her partner as he came over.

“Hello Bill how’s it going?”  Booth asked.

“The deputy I posted at the hospital called and said that they haven’t finished the tests on Bobby but that Andrew Croft is starting to ask a lot of questions,” Longfeather replied.

“Then we’d better get down there,” The FBI agent said.

“I thought so, should I send some deputies out to Croft’s house to see if he has the boat?”  The sheriff asked.

“Not yet, but I would like to know what kind of vehicle he drives and I want to have a complete background check run,” Booth told him.

“All right, I’ll have my deputies look it up and call me when they find out,” Bill nodded and then went to talk with a deputy before they headed for the hospital.

“Something seems off about this whole case,” Brennan said to her partner.

          “What are you thinking?”  He wondered.

          “The victim was drugged with Rohypnol, which is illegal in the United States but easy to get from Mexico.  Then she was duct taped to a lawn chair and thrown over the side of a boat with cinder blocks and a towing apparatus to keep her weighed down.  Later we find out that she drowned and she was pregnant.  We now know that the baby was fathered by one of three men that work at the Mayor’s office, and that Sara spent two hours with Woodridge before supposedly going to visit her family.  A family that has not reported missing or even bothered to call the Mayor’s office or Sara’s apartment. 

“Also Sam Tunney was mad at Sara for pushing for a casino to be built in his neighborhood, in which all of his neighbors have already vacated.  He’s been keeping his sick son Bobby in his room trying to protect him from the outside world because he can’t afford the proper medical treatment.  Yet he’s trying to jeopardize his son by hanging onto the used rolls of duct tape, not telling us where he’s keeping his boat, and the fact that there is dirt found in his tire treads which could match the dirt at Lake McDonald Lodge.  We know that Tunney couldn’t do it by himself but Croft couldn’t help him because he’s confined to a wheelchair.  There are many facts in this case but hardly anything to connect everything,” the forensic anthropologist stated.

“You do have a point Bones but this brings me back to my earlier theory about a scandal at the Mayor’s office shifting the focus of the investigation,” Booth said.

“You really think that Tunney got lucky enough to have the one woman he wanted to get rid of to be carrying a baby that could possibly be Mayor Woodridge’s?”  Brennan had a skeptical look on her face.

“No, I don’t but the last thing I want to do is come over half way across the country to charge an elected official of having an affair with one of the women in his office and then having her whacked by two guys who between the two of them make one whole person.  I mean mentally Tunney is out to lunch and physically Croft is incapable of helping dump Sara Dietrich into Lake McDonald.  To be honest, even if the Mayor had an affair, that’s not something I can arrest him on,” her partner pointed out.

“So what do we do?”  She asked.

“Do what we always do, catch the bad guy.  I’m not about to give up.  We talk to this Croft guy get more information about him and see if we can get some DNA from the three married guys at the Mayor’s office,” Booth told her as Sheriff Longfeather returned.

“Then let’s do it,” Brennan nodded.


	9. Chapter 9

**Kalispell Regional Medical Center, Monday at 2:00 pm**

          Booth and Brennan strode down the hallway inside Kalispell’s renowned hospital in that part of the state until they reached Bobby Tunney’s room.  The deputy outside the room nodded when Booth showed his badge.

          “I’m Deputy Rich Falkner, nice to meet you.  Croft left about twenty minutes ago but I can fill you in on what’s been going on,” the police officer said.

          “Sounds good.  Sheriff Longfeather is tracking down facts about Croft for us but what was your impression of him?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “Despite his handicap the man seems perfectly capable of doing things on his own.  Never asked me to help him or anything.  He certainly was friendly and always seemed to have a smile on his face.  Although when he started asking questions about Sam, his personality seemed to change,” Falkner told the partners.

          “Change how?”  The FBI agent asked.

          “Well he stopped smiling and he got all serious.  He wanted to know things that I couldn’t tell him because the investigation is still ongoing.  Then he got mad and said that he wouldn’t stand for this.  Then he went into Bobby’s room and acted as if our conversation never happened,” Rich explained.

          “What specifically did he ask you?”  Booth wondered.

          “He wanted to know what Sam had been arrested for, if a search warrant had been executed on his property, and where we were holding him,” the deputy said.  Brennan watched her partner’s facial expression and knew that he was thinking.

          “Thank you Mr. Falkner.  If you’ll excuse me,” Brennan smiled and ducked into the hospital room.  Bobby Tunney was sitting up watching cartoons and he smiled when he saw her.

          “Are you here to tell me about my dad?”  The boy asked.

          “No, I’m here to see how you’re feeling.  You certainly look better than when I saw you the other day,” the forensic anthropologist hoped that he wouldn’t ask too many questions about his father.

          “Oh yeah I do feel better,” Bobby heaved a sigh.  Brennan gave a slight smile and grabbed his medical file off the end of the bed.  She hoped for some good news.

          “Bones I…” Booth started before Bobby interrupted.

          “Do you know anything about my dad?”

          “Hi Bobby.  You know we were never fully introduced.  I’m Special Agent Booth with the FBI and this is my partner Dr. Brennan,” he told the sick child and handed him his badge.

          “Hi,” Bobby gave a smile and looked the federal identification.

          “As far as your dad goes we’re still asking him some questions,” Booth was lying again but Brennan’s focus was on the patient’s medical chart so she didn’t say anything.

          “Will he come see me?  I miss him,” Bobby wanted to know as he handed Booth back his badge.  Now the forensic anthropologist looked up from the chart at her partner.  This would be a tricky question to answer.  Luckily the doctor walked in and saved Booth from having to answer.

          “Good afternoon Bobby.  I see you have visitors again.  You’re very popular around here,” the medical man gave him a smile and the boy smiled back.

          “Afternoon Dr. Chuba.  Is it time for my medication again?”  Bobby asked.

          “Yes it is.  Once you’re done with your pills, it would be good for you to take a nap before dinner,” Chuba replied.

          “Ok.  What’s for dinner anyway?”  The boy asked as he took the water and pills from the doctor.

          “I hear it’s your favorite, macaroni and cheese,” this answer made Bobby smile and he finished off his medication.  The doctor then turned off the television and escorted Booth and Brennan to the doorway before turning off the lights so the boy could rest.

          “Can I help you?”  Chuba asked as Brennan handed Bobby’s medical chart over to him.  Booth made quick introductions and then the doctor was a little more forthcoming.

          “His test results will be back on Wednesday.  Right now we’re treating him for dehydration, a slight fever, inflammation of the joints, and iron and calcium deficiencies,” he explained.

          “I noticed from the chart you made mention that there is a possibility for possible bone damage,” Brennan noted.

          “Yes, his joints were inflamed and he was in moderate pain in his hands and knees.  Arthritis could be a possibility, but luckily the type of arthritis associated with lupus doesn’t cause severe destruction of the joints.  However coupled with his calcium deficiency, he could run into problems,” Chuba helped them understand.  Booth tried to absorb it all while Brennan continued the discussion.

          “What happens next?”  She asked.

          “Well hopefully when the test results come back we can give him a proper diagnosis and it will allow us to plan out medications he can take to give him a normal a life as possible,” the medical man said.

          “Who is paying for his treatment?”  The forensic anthropologist wondered.

          “Right now the county is because his father is in police custody.  If he doesn’t have any family members and his father is sent to prison, he’ll become a ward of the state and they will pick up the tab.  However if he does have family members, they’ll have to pay for it.  I’m sure you know that that will all depend on what the insurance company says,” Chuba heaved a sigh.

          “Thank you for your time,” Booth nodded and shook the medical man’s hand.  The doctor then moved on to complete his rounds.  Turning to his partner, Booth could see the “I’m worried but I’m trying to hide it” look on his partner’s face.

          “Bones, are you ok?”  He asked.

          “I’m fine.  What now?”  She changed the subject. 

          “I think it’s time we pay Mr. Croft a visit,” Booth said.

**Andrew Croft’s Residence, Monday at 4:30 pm**  

          After making a stop at police headquarters, where they picked up Sheriff Longfeather, the group headed out to Andrew Croft’s home.  Along the way the sheriff filled them in on what his deputies had discovered.  Croft’s record was clean, not so much as a parking ticket.  In fact the only time he’d been in any kind of contact with the law was when he was in a horrible car accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down.  Even after the accident he refused to sue the teenager who had hit him, despite the fact that the kid was legally drunk at the time.  Booth pulled the car up to the house they had been looking for and noted the large Chevy Silverado in the driveway.  It was then that Bill spoke up.

          “Before we go in there, I sent Sam Tunney’s booking fingerprints to the Jeffersonian since they are officially in our system,”

          “Hopefully Hodgins will be able to match them to the one they found on the duct tape,” Brennan said.

          “Well let’s see if we can get Mr. Croft to cooperate,” Booth smiled and stepped out of the car.  Brennan and the sheriff followed and the three walked up to the front door.  There Bill rang the bell and they heard footsteps.  Booth looked at his partner and cocked an eyebrow.  Brennan gave him almost an identical look back and a young man answered the door.

          “Hello can I help you?”  He asked.  

          “I’m Sheriff Longfeather and this is FBI Special Agent Booth and his partner Dr. Brennan.  Is Mr. Croft home?”  Bill wondered.  The young man smiled and answered,

          “Yes, he is.  Why don’t you come in?”  The three entered the home while the man went to fetch Croft.

          “Sheriff how can I help you?”  The wheelchair bound man asked as he wheeled into the kitchen.

          “Mr. Croft, we’d like to discuss some things in private,” Bill said.

          “Well whatever you have to say can be said in front of my nephew, Steve.  Now lets move into the living room,” the possible suspect told them.  Once everyone was seated, Longfeather let Booth take over.

          “We understand that you’ve been asking a lot of questions about Sam Tunney on your last visit to see his son Bobby,” the FBI said.

          “Yes, in case I have to, Sam would want me to contact his sister in California to take care of Bobby,” Croft answered.

          “I see, funny that neither Bobby nor Sam mentioned her when we talked with them on Saturday,” Booth told him.

          “Sam hasn’t been in touch with her since his wife died.  It’s very possible that Bobby wouldn’t remember her.  I think Sam said that his sister has been out in California since before Bobby was born,” the man apparently had an answer for everything.

          “Did you drive yourself to the hospital?”  Brennan changed the subject.

          “My nephew is working on getting my car fitted with the equipment so that when he goes back to MSU-Bozeman in the fall,” he told them.

          “Well that’s nice of you, Steve,” Bill said, hoping that it would lead somewhere.

          “Very nice of him.  He took a whole semester off just so he could help me,” Croft’s pride in his nephew was going to get one of them in trouble.

          “You said your car but whose truck is that in the driveway?”  Brennan wondered.

          “It’s mine,” Steve answered.

          “That’s a nice truck does it have a towing package?”  Bill inquired.

          “It used to.  One day I came out of school and found it missing off my truck,” the college kid told them.

          “So did Sam ever take you out on his boat?”  Booth reined in the focus of the conversation.

          “Once or twice.  As you can imagine, it isn’t very easy for me to get my sea legs.  We talked about getting it fitted for my wheelchair as well but we haven’t done much else but talk,” Croft said, trying to make a point.

          “Well maybe someday, where does he keep it anyway?  It wasn’t at his house when we were there,” Bill asked. 

          “You’d have to ask him.  When we did go out he picked me up with the boat in tow,” the handicapped man answered.

          “Well I think we’ve taken up enough of your time.  Thank you so much,” Booth effectively ended the interview.

          “Glad to help,” Croft smiled and followed them to the door.  The group left the home and climbed into the car.

          “Well it seems no one wants to admit where they stashed the boat,” Booth sighed as he fired up the vehicle.

          “Yes, they definitely are pushing it off on each other,” Brennan agreed.

          “Still I think we learned quite a bit,” Longfeather said.

          “Good point.  We found out that the second towing kit was off of Steve’s truck and that he took a whole semester off.  We should call MSU-Bozeman and see what he’s taking there,” the FBI agent said.

          “Well I can tell you right now that Montana State University-Bozeman is about a five hour drive from here so it’s no wonder he took the whole semester off,” Bill told them.

          “So Steve takes a semester off to help his uncle, whom apparently he’d do anything for, even if it means committing murder,” Booth remarked as he turned down one of the streets on the way back to the police station.

          “I guess so.  We’d better ask Sam about his sister so that we can have someone looking out for Bobby,” Brennan spoke up.

          “Yes we should.  Hopefully he’ll be in the talking mood after two nights in jail,” her partner nodded.


	10. Chapter 10

**Kalispell Police Headquarters, Tuesday at 10:00 am**

          Monday’s talk with Sam had proven to be fruitless as his lawyer was still advising him to keep his mouth shut.  It was odd considering the fact that it was supposed to be helping his son but in spite of Booth’s threat of foster care, Sam refused to budge.  Now the partners sat in Sheriff Longfeather’s office planning their next course of action. 

          “I called MSU-Bozeman.  They have no report of a towing assembly being stolen in their campus police records but they did tell me that Steve Croft is taking Mechanical Engineering,” Bill explained.  

          “So he has the know-how to make something to help his uncle dispose of a body,” Booth sat back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face.

          “Yes he would but do you honestly think he’d be involved?”  Brennan wondered.

          “I don’t see why not.  I mean he took an entire semester off for his uncle.  How many kids would do that for their parents never mind their uncle?”  Her partner asked. 

          “Even if he didn’t know what his uncle was using the machine for, he could still be charged as an accessory,” Longfeather said.  It was then that Brennan’s phone rang and she picked it up.

          “Brennan,”

          “Hi sweetie.  I have those DNA results for you and a progress report,” her best friend answered.

          “Great Ange, what did you find?”  The forensic anthropologist wanted to know.

          “DNA confirms the victim is in fact Sara Dietrich.  Also we received the duct tape and tire scrapings.  Zach and Jack are all over those and I’ll be helping when I get off the phone with you,” Angela told her, the tone of her voice alerted her friend that she was sad about the discovery.

          “Thanks.  Sheriff Longfeather sent you Sam Tunney’s fingerprints so see if they match to the ones on the towing apparatus,” Brennan said.

          “Ok, I’ll talk to you soon,” With that the call ended and the world-renowned author shared what she learned with the group.

          “I’ll call Sara’s family,” the sheriff told them and he picked up the phone.  Booth nodded and he and his partner left the room.

          “I think we have enough to ask for DNA samples from the men in the Mayor’s office,” the FBI agent said.

          “All right, I’ll grab my kit,” Brennan nodded.

**Mayor Woodridge’s Office, Tuesday at 11:30 am**

          “Sorry to interrupt Mayor but Dr. Brennan and I have to talk to you,” Booth said as we walked into Woodridge’s office much to the chagrin of the elected official’s secretary.

          “What now Agent Booth?”  The exasperated tone coming from the man made it obvious their presence was not welcome.

          “We have confirmed that Sara Dietrich is in fact the woman that was found in Lake McDonald,” Brennan said.  This made the Mayor stop his paperwork.  He looked up at them, his complexion paler than normal.

          “Have you called her family?”  He asked.

          “Sheriff Longfeather is taking care of that.  In the meantime, we’d like to ask every man in your office to give us a DNA sample, starting with you,” Booth told him.

          “DNA sample?  What for?”  Woodridge inquired.

          “Sara was six weeks pregnant,” Brennan filled in.  This made the Mayor’s eyes go wide.

          “And you think one of the men in my office is the father?”  He wondered.

          “There is evidence to back it up.  The sample will be completely voluntary of course but should someone refuse…” Booth didn’t finish the sentence but Woodridge knew what he was implying, refuse and automatically look guilty.

          “Then you’d better start with me,” the elected official said.

          “Open up,” Brennan told him grabbing a cotton swab from her kit. 

**Kalispell Police Headquarters, Tuesday at 2:00 pm**  

          The DNA had been successfully collected from all six men and sent to the Jeffersonian.  Angela had told Brennan that they were still organizing all the strips of duct tape from the body and trying to match them up.  The tire scrapings were running through the system to see if they matched the dirt from the tread mark casts made near the lake.

          “So how did Sara’s family take the news?”  Booth asked.

          “They were incredibly upset.  Not that I had expected different but I hate making those phone calls,” Longfeather sighed.

          “I understand, probably the worst part of the job,” the FBI agent nodded.

          “One thing struck me as odd though,” Bill said.

          “What was that?”  Brennan wondered.

          “Well they weren’t expecting Sara.  They said that she didn’t get to visit often and most of the time they came up here to visit her,” the sheriff told them.

          “So the Mayor says she’s going on vacation but her parents say she wasn’t.  Martha, the Mayor’s secretary, said that she knew Sara was going on vacation as well,” Brennan said.

          “Our victim lied to her boss?”  Longfeather wondered.

          “Could she have been going to the doctor to confirm the pregnancy and possibly terminating it?”  Booth swallowed hard.  Abortion was against his religious views but as part of the law of the United States, he had to keep his opinions in check.

          “She was within the time frame to have it done legally but I don’t know what Montana requires her to do,” the forensic anthropologist told them.

          “Montana requires parental notification, a waiting period, and mandatory counseling,” Bill explained.

          “So there is no possible way she could terminate the pregnancy without the father knowing,” Brennan said.

          “Unless the father already agreed to it.  I mean if the Mayor is the father and she told him she though she was pregnant…” Booth posed a thought.

          “He’d want to keep it quiet so if she went out of town and had the father listed as someone like John Smith…” Brennan jumped on his train of thought.

          “It’s quite possible they could get away with the public never finding out,” Longfeather nodded. 

          “But if Sara refused to have an abortion and she spent two hours in the Mayor’s office before supposedly heading out for her vacation…” Booth said.

          “It’s possible that the Mayor called up Sam and told him exactly where Sara was heading.  Her car wasn’t at her apartment and if she wasn’t heading to Three Forks to see her folks, then that means it’s still out there,” Brennan thought.

          “I’ll get my men right on it.  In the meantime I’ll see if I can get a hold of the Mayor’s schedule and phone records,” Sheriff Longfeather told them as he picked up his office phone.  Quickly the partners stood up and headed out to Brennan’s borrowed workspace to talk some more.

          “What about Tunney’s boat?”  The forensic anthropologist wondered.

          “Bill looked into his financials.  He isn’t paying one of the boating docks around here to store it and he doesn’t have any other property where he could be keeping it,” Booth said.  She nodded as her partner continued.

          “I’d really like to get both Andrew Croft and his nephew’s fingerprints in case Tunney’s don’t match the ones on the towing kit,”

          “What about Croft?  I mean he said that he didn’t know but he could be lying,” Brennan asked.

            “It’s possible.  Let’s see where Bill gets and we’ll take it from there,” her partner said.


	11. Chapter 11

**Brennan’s Hotel Room, Wednesday at 7:00 am**

          Brennan woke to the sound of the hotel’s alarm clock going off.  Smacking the button on top, the buzzer was silenced and she rolled over to stare at the ceiling.  Thoughts buzzed around in her head as she tried to process all the evidence they had so far in the case.  Despite being able to tie Sam Tunney to the crime, they had no other way of figuring out who else was involved.  Booth had brought up an interesting point about the Mayor but it seemed odd that Sam would even talk to Woodridge considering the casino campaign.  Then she had a thought.  Climbing out of bed, she went to the door adjoining her room to her partner’s and pounded on the door.  She could hear Booth talking but she couldn’t make out the words.  He opened the door and gave his partner the best smile he could with his toothbrush in his mouth.

          “What’s up Bones?”  He asked.

          “What if Woodridge made Sam an offer he couldn’t refuse?”  She asked Booth gave her a look and then put his finger up to signal he needed to spit out the toothpaste in his mouth.  The forensic anthropologist nodded and let her partner go into the bathroom.  He exited the room a few seconds later, his mouth all cleaned up.

          “Love the use of the Godfather quote but what are you talking about?”  The FBI agent wondered. 

          “What if the reason Woodridge contacted Sam was to get rid of their mutual problem?  I mean to Tunney, Sara was the one ruining his life.  If the Mayor told him to get rid of her and he’d take care of Bobby or drop the casino campaign…” Brennan started but Booth cut her off.

          “So one hand washes the other.  Get rid of my pregnant girlfriend and I’ll make sure your son gets the medical care her needs.  That’s a good angle but we still have no way of tying Woodridge to Tunney,” he said.  

          “What about phone calls?”  She wondered.

          “Bill is working on a search warrant to get his phone records and his schedule,” Booth reminded her.  Then the two separated and quickly got ready. 

**Kalispell Police Headquarters, Wednesday at 9:00 am**  

“Just the two people I wanted to see,” Longfeather said as the partners walked into the station.

“Do you have something for us?”  Booth wondered.

“Only a copy of the Mayor’s schedule and his phone records.  I think you’ll find something very interesting on them,” the sheriff told them as the three went back to his office.  Once inside with the door closed the Native American handed over the lists.

“There circled in red are the things I found interesting,” Longfeather explained.

“A family trip to Cancun, Mexico?  Looks like he just got back a week and a half ago,” Booth raised his right eyebrow.

          “The timeline fits.  Where did you say that Rohypnol was easy to get?”  Bill asked.

          “It’s legal in Mexico,” Brennan nodded.

          “So he buys the drugs while he’s down there but how do we prove it?”  Longfeather wondered.

          “We might not have to.  If we approach him and tell him that what we have he might roll over to save his own ass,” Booth said.  The sheriff gave him a confused look and Brennan explained.

          “This morning Booth and I were discussing the possibility of the Mayor having Sam Tunney doing his dirty work.  Perhaps Woodridge told him if he got rid of Sara that he would help with Bobby’s medical bills.”

          “Makes sense especially if you look at the phone records,” Bill said drawing their attention to the red-circled area on the stapled packet of paper.

          “There are seven phone calls between the Mayor and Tunney.  Three of them appear to be hang ups because they don’t last long enough for conversation.  Then there is the one call to Woodridge’s cell phone while he was in Cancun,” Longfeather pointed out. 

          “Last minute jitters or making sure that one of them was going to keep up the end of their bargain?”  Brennan questioned.

          “Either way this ties the two of them together.  No way they can claim that this was all about the casino business.  Besides how many people get phone calls from the Mayor?”  Booth cocked his head to one side. 

          “Excellent point.  I think we should haul both Tunney and the Mayor in for questioning and see which one cracks first,” Bill nodded.

          “I want to talk to Tunney first.  Our case against Woodridge isn’t very strong and I’d like to have Sam tell the jury what he was up against.  They may be more sympathetic to him that way,” the FBI agent told them.

          “All right.  Switching topics, I got a call from the hospital.  Bobby’s test results are in,” Longfeather said.

          “What do they say?”  Brennan wanted to know.

          “They confirmed that he does in fact have Lupus.  I’ve tried digging into Sam’s records to find his sister but if we can’t locate her, Bobby will end up in the foster system,” the sheriff told them the news.  This statement made Brennan clench her teeth.  That poor boy had been through enough and he didn’t need to suffer what she’d gone through in her childhood. 

          “What about Sara’s car?”  Booth quickly changed the subject, knowing how sensitive his partner was about the foster care system.

          “Still no luck but there is a statewide alert out for it,” Bill explained. 

**Interrogation Room at Police Headquarters, Wednesday at 10:15 am**  

          “As I said before Special Agent Booth my client does not want to speak to you,” Paul Petrov, Sam Tunney’s attorney said.

          “I understand but I thought your client would at least want to listen,” the G-man explained.  Petrov turned to Tunney and whispered something.

          “All right, I’m listening,” Sam told him.  Booth went on to present the theory of the Mayor’s plot and waited for a reaction.  Tunney heaved a sigh and leaned over to his lawyer.  After whispering in his ear, the attorney spoke.

          “I need a few minutes alone with my client,”

          “All right,” Booth nodded and headed out of the room.

          “You think he’ll talk?”  Brennan asked.

          “I certainly hope so,” her partner said.  The forensic anthropologist nodded and was about to say something when her cell phone rang.

          “Brennan,” she answered.

          “Hi hun, it’s me,” Angela’s voice came over the line.

          “Hi, what do you have?”  Brennan asked.

          “The dirt from the tire treads of Sam Tunney’s truck came back a match to the dirt in the treads found near the lake.  Also we’ve matched one roll of duct tape up to the strips found on Sara’s body,” the forensic artist explained.

          “Good.  How are the other rolls coming?”  Her friend wondered.

          “We attacked the larger rolls first because they have less to match to but I think by tomorrow afternoon we’d have the rest.  The Angelator has been a huge help.  Also we have the fingerprints from Sheriff Longfeather and we’re running them now,” Angela told her.

          “Great, thanks, I’ll talk to you soon,” Brennan said.

          “Don’t for get what I said sweetie, enjoy the scenery,” a little chuckle came from the artist and her friend shook her head despite the fact that Angela couldn’t see it.

          “Bye Angela,” the world-renowned author told her and hung up.

          “So what’s the scoop?”  Booth wondered.  Brennan proceeded to tell him everything.

          “We’ll use this info if Tunney still refuses to talk,” he said.  That’s when there was a knock on the special glass window and both partners entered the room.

          “Sam wants to talk but only if you can work a deal out,” Petrov told them.

          “That’s good because the Jeffersonian just matched the dirt from your client’s tires to the dirt near the lake and they matched one of the duct tape rolls to the half used ones in your client’s garage,” Booth laid out the new evidence for them.

          “You’ll find that all the duct tape rolls match the strips on Sara’s body,” Tunney spoke up.

          “What about the fingerprint on the towing kit?  We talked to Andrew Croft and his nephew Steve,” the FBI agent pressured.

          “There is something you must understand.  I dragged Andy into this, he said his nephew would help but I didn’t want to ruin the kid’s life,” Sam explained.

          “So what happened?”  Brennan asked.

          “Dean, the Mayor, approached me about Sara before he went on vacation.  He said that he needed to get rid of her and that he needed my help,” Tunney said.

          “Why would he come to you?”  Booth questioned.

          “We used to be best friends but when the casino campaign came out, I stopped talking to him.  Anyway, he promised to give me money to pay for Bobby’s medical bills and I couldn’t refuse,” Sam spilled.  The partners looked at each other.  Their theory had been right on the nosey.

          “So you brought the Crofts in because…?”  Booth asked.

          “I didn’t know what to do so I called Andy.  He’s the smartest guy I know and I couldn’t think of a way to get rid of her body,” Tunney said.

          “What did he say when you told him what you were doing?”  Brennan wondered.

          “At first he didn’t understand how I could be doing this but after seeing what Bobby was going through, he agreed to help and promise to take care of him if I should get caught,” the killer for hire explained.

          “You do realize that because of what you said, we’ll have no choice but to charge both Andrew and Steve as accessories to the murder,” Booth said.  Sam nodded before continuing.

          “Dean promised to get the Rohypnol and told me that he’d give it to her.  Then all I’d have to do is get rid of the body,”

          “The Rohypnol didn’t kill her, she drowned.  Sara was six weeks pregnant,” Brennan told him.  

          “I didn’t know, honest.  All Dean told me was to get rid of the body,” Tunney protested.

          “You didn’t notice she was still breathing?”  Booth slammed his palms onto the table.

          “Look I did what Dean told me to do and that’s it.  The lawn chair and duct tape was my idea,” Sam said.

          “I’ll have Sheriff Longfeather call the DA.  He’ll have you write everything down that you just said and the address and phone number of your sister in California.  She’s the only one who can take care of your son unless you want the state to do it,” Booth was firm with him.  Tunney nodded and the partners headed out of the room.

          “Well that went well.  I’ll get arrest warrants for Andrew and Steve Croft and you guys can pick them up,” Bill said.

          “What about the Mayor?”  Brennan asked.

          “We’ll get the Crofts to cough up what they know and then we’ll get him,” Booth said.


	12. Chapter 12

**On Route to Mayor Woodridge’s Office, Thursday at 9:00 am**

          Booth and Brennan drove in their rental car toward the Mayor’s office with three police cars following them.  They had received word from Angela the night before that the baby’s DNA matched the Mayor’s and that the fingerprint on the towing assembly matched Andrew Croft.  Armed with this knowledge both Crofts folded like a bad hand on poker night.  They confessed everything and in exchange for their testimony they would be given lighter sentences.  Now there was only one thing left to do and it was to arrest Kalispell’s Mayor.

          Arriving at the Mayor’s office, Booth exited the car and looked to the police cars behind him.  Sheriff Longfeather came over to discuss any last minute details.

          “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” the local lawman shook his head.

          “He had Sara Dietrich killed,” Booth reminded him.  Longfeather nodded and looked to Dr. Brennan as she exited the car.

          “What are we waiting for?”  She asked.

          “You Bones, lets go,” her partner smirked.  Brennan rolled her eyes and they headed into the office with four police officers in tow.

          “We need to see Mayor Woodridge,” Booth said to Martha, who couldn’t take her eyes off all the law enforcement men behind the partners.

          “He’s in his office,” the secretary said shakily.  Booth nodded and led the troop to the office door.

          “Officers stay out here, Bill come with us,” the FBI agent took charge.  Brennan couldn’t help but smile.  Booth was in his element and he was very good at his job.  Then the three opened the office door and entered.  They found Dean Woodridge sitting at his desk staring at something in his desk drawer.

_All around me are familiar faces; Worn out places, worn out faces; Bright and early for their daily races; Going nowhere, going nowhere…_

          “Mayor Woodridge, I think you know why we’re here,” Booth said.

          “Yes, I do,” the town official told them.

          “We need you to come with us Dean.  Don’t make this harder than it already is,” Longfeather pleaded.  The man reached into his drawer for the thing he was looking at.

_Their tears are filling up their glasses; No expression, no expression; Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow; No tomorrow, no tomorrow…_          

“You understand that I can’t go with you.  Things can’t end this way,” Woodridge put the nine-millimeter handgun that had been in his drawer to his temple.  Quickly Booth and Longfeather pulled out their service weapons. 

_And I find it kinda funny; I find it kinda sad; The dreams in which I'm dying; Are the best I've ever had_           

“Don’t do it.  What about your family?”  Bill asked him.         

“I’ve already disgraced them.  My affair ruined everything,” Woodridge said.         

“How are you going to make things up to them if you’re dead?”  Booth wanted to know.         

“Whether I die here or I die by lethal injection it won’t matter I’ll still be dead.  At least now it will be my own decision,” the Mayor told them.  Before Booth or Longfeather could do anything, the man pulled the trigger.  With the bullet traveling at roughly six hundred and seventy one miles an hour (three hundred meters per second), Woodridge never stood a chance.  Skull fragments, blood, and brain matter sprayed across the office landing on the walls, carpet, and Brennan.  She stood there in complete shock as the four officers rushed into the room after hearing the gunshot.  Booth was at her side in an instant.

  _I find it hard to tell you; I find it hard to take; When people run in circles; It's a very, very mad world mad world…_          

“Temperance are you ok?” he asked, worry obvious in his voice.  She couldn’t keep her eyes off the dead man on the floor.  Of all the things she’d seen never once had she seen someone kill themselves on purpose.  Sure there had been cases that in the end turned out that the person had killed themselves but this was different.         

“Temperance?”  This time Booth’s voice sank in and she turned to him.  He ignored the blood and brain matter that covered her front and wrapped his arms around her.  At that moment it didn’t matter what the others in the room thought, it only mattered that she was all right.         

“Call the forensics squad and the coroner,” Longfeather told his men then he turned to the partners.         

“You ok?”  He asked Brennan.         

“I’ll be fine,” she told him as Booth let go of her.         

“I’m sorry this happened this way,” the G-man said to Bill.         

“So am I.  Now I have to call his family and explain to them what happened,” the Native American lawman shook his head.         

“I’ll get Bones back to the hotel and then we can drive over and explain things to his wife.  This is one job you shouldn’t have to do alone.  It’ll be bad enough that you have to hold a press conference,” Booth told him.  Kalispell Regional Medical Center, Thursday at 11:00 am Children’s Services arrived at the hospital to take Bobby away.  Now with his medications he could be discharged from the medical facility.  His aunt from California would be out in the next few days to pick him up from foster care.   

_Children waiting for the day they feel good; Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday; Made to feel the way that every child should; Sit and listen, sit and listen…_          

His father wouldn’t be eligible for parole for another twenty-five years by then Bobby would be thirty-two.  Maybe then they could repair their relationship in the meantime he’d be in California, where he’d have to make new friends, go to a new school, and adjust to living with people he didn’t even know.

_Went to school and I was very nervous; No one knew me, no one knew me; Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson; Look right through me, look right through me…_            

Brennan had wanted to be there to say goodbye to Bobby but with the incident at the Mayor’s office it just wasn’t to be.  Booth called Children’s Services to get the address in California so that his partner could send the boy a letter after the case was over.  Now the two partners sat in Sheriff Longfeather’s office. 

_And I find it kinda funny; I find it kinda sad; The dreams in which I'm dying; Are the best I've ever had…_           

Mrs. Woodridge had been inconsolable when Bill had told her the news.  Her kids were at school and she didn’t know what to do.  Booth told her that they would send someone to get them from school before they held the press conference.  It was obvious from their discussion that the wife had no idea about her husband’s infidelity and explaining everything to her was hard.  She refused to believe it but no matter what it was a fact.  
  
_I find it hard to tell you; I find it hard to take; When people run in circles; It's a very, very mad world ... world; Enlarge your world; Mad world._

“I appreciate your help in all of this,” Bill said.         

“Just doing our jobs,” Booth reassured him.         

“Thank you for bringing in your clothes from this morning Dr. Brennan.  I know you didn’t intend for them to become evidence but we’ll try to get them back to you,” the sheriff told her.         

“No need to send them to me, clothes can be replaced,” she gave a slight smile.         

“So when does your flight leave?”  Longfeather asked.         

“Tomorrow afternoon, that was the earliest one we could get,” Booth explained.  The sheriff nodded.  After a few more minutes, the partners said goodbye and headed back to their hotel rooms. 


	13. Epilogue

**Brennan’s Hotel Room, Thursday at 7:00 pm**

          “I don’t think that this is what Angela had in mind when she said to enjoy the scenery,” Brennan said as she rested her head on Booth’s strong naked chest.

          “Oh I don’t know the scenery looks pretty good from here,” Booth teased while lifting the sheets to take a peek.  This earned him a slight slap on the cheek.

          “You went there,” he said.

          “I suppose I did.  It’s a shame about those dinner reservations, though,” she told him.

          “That’s is what room service is for,” Booth gave her a wink.  There was a knock on the door as soon as he said something.

          “Speak of the devil,” he continued.  Brennan gave him a look before getting out of bed and grabbed the complimentary bathrobe off its hanger on the coat rack behind the door.

          “Coming,” she called.  Her partner headed to the bathroom for some clean up as she opened the door.

          “Your order ma’am,” the nice hotel worker smiled.

          “Thank you.  Wait a second and I’ll get you a tip,” the forensic anthropologist went over to a pair of pants on the floor and pulled out a wallet.  Digging through it she fetched some money and handed to the teenager in exchange for the cart of food.

          “Thank you ma’am,” the smile on his face was as big as it could be.  Brennan nodded and closed the door.

          “That smells delicious,” Booth said as he walked back into the room wearing some lounging pants he’d brought over.

          “It better be considering it was ordered to my room.  Oh by the way, you gave a wonderful tip to the boy,” she smirked as he pulled her close to him and kissed the back of her neck.

          “Did I now?  Remind me later to hide my wallet,” the FBI agent smiled one of charm smiles. 

          “Let’s eat before it gets cold.  I’m starving,” she couldn’t help but smile back.  The two quickly set about making themselves comfy and eating their meal.  Brennan was about halfway done with her chicken before she opened her mouth to say something.

          “I wanted to thank you for earlier today,” she said.

          “What for Bones?”  Her partner gave her a confused look.

          “I know it wasn’t exactly protocol but when you wrapped your arms around me…  My indecision…” the unfinished thoughts hung in the air.

          “First off whether it was protocol or not, I was worried about you.  You weren’t answering me and the look on your face…” he trailed off as well.

          “I should have pulled out my weapon,” Brennan said.

          “That wouldn’t have made a difference.  Woodridge had no intention of leaving that room alive.  I’m just glad that you’re all right.  I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” Booth reassured her.

          “I just never saw someone do that to themselves.  Everyday we deal with people killing other people, not someone killing themselves, and not in front of us,” she couldn’t wrap her mind around the concept.

          “He couldn’t live with the shame he caused.  It happens people think they can’t deal but he had a point, every jury in the world would’ve sent him to Death Row.  Especially since he killed a woman and her unborn child,” her partner explained.  She nodded and turned back to her food.

          “Sorry about your shirt and your pants.  I’ll buy you a new suit,” Brennan said after a few moments of chewing.

          “Don’t worry about, it was all in the line of duty,” Booth smiled.

          “Duty to your job or duty to me?”  His partner wondered.

          “Both but more so to you,” he gave her a wink.  Soon they finished their meal and pushed the dirty dishes back out into the hallway.

          “Well that was tasty,” Brennan said.

          “I can think of something else that’s very tasty,” her partner smiled as he pulled her close and kissed her lips.

          “Mmmmm, I see what you mean,” the forensic anthropologist gave Booth a sexy look.

          “Shut the lights off,” he said as he pulled her back toward the bed.

**The End**


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